Brownsmiths Boy - A Romance in a Garden - Page 62/241

"I couldn't help it," I cried piteously; "the top was so heavy, it

seemed to pull it over when I tried to move it. Please how much will a

new one cost?"

"Cost!" said Ike grimly, as he stood looking with one eye at the ladder,

with the other at me--"hundred--hundred and twenty--say a hundred pound

at the very outside."

"A hundred pounds!" I cried aghast.

"Well, not more'n that," said Ike. "Trying to move it, was you? and--

why, you've smashed that branch off the pear-tree. I say, hadn't you

better cut and run?"

"I don't know, Ike," I said hopelessly; "had I?"

"Well, I don't think I would this time. The ganger perhaps'll let you

off if you pay for it out of your wage."

"But I don't have any wages," I said in despair.

"You don't!" he cried. "Well, then, you're in for it. My word, I

wouldn't be you for a crown."

I stood gazing helplessly from the ladder to Ike and back, half feeling

that he was imposing upon me, but in too much trouble to resent it, and

as I stared about a robin came and sat upon the broken branch, and

seemed to be examining how much damage I had done.

"Well, what shall we do, young 'un?" said Ike.

"I suppose I must go on picking with the broken ladder," I said

gloomily.

"You ain't going to cut then?"

"No," I said firmly.

"Then look here," said Ike; "suppose I take the broken ladder up into

the shed, and hang it up, and bring another. When the ganger finds it

he'll think it was Shock broke it, and then you'll be all right, eh?

What do you say to that?"

"That I wouldn't be such a coward," I said stoutly. "I shall tell Mr

Brownsmith myself."

"Oh, very well!" said Ike, stooping and picking up the broken ladder.

"Here, give me that bit. I'll soon be back. Don't much matter. On'y

four foot gone, and we wanted a shorter one. This'll just do."

"Then it won't cost a hundred pounds?" I cried.

"No; nor a hundred pennies, boy. It was only my gammon. I'll soon be

back."

I felt as if a load had been lifted off my breast as Ike came back at a

heavy trot with a fresh ladder and planted it for me against the

apple-tree.

"That's about safe," he cried. "If you feel yourself falling, hook one

of your ears over a bough and hang on. Never mind the ladder: let that

go."

"That's nonsense!" I said sharply, and Ike chuckled.

"Look ye here, boy," he said, as I thanked him and ran up the ladder

with my empty basket, "I'll take that bough as you broke in among the

gooseberries, where he never hardly comes, and I'll tell him that I

broke the ladder moving it. You've had plenty of trouble already, and

my shoulders is bigger than yours."